Past and Present
by Ashfae
Summary: Every man has to face his past before he can move on.
1. Chapter One

**Past and Present**

  


Prologue

  


by Ashfae

* * *

The human mind is a complicated thing. The human heart is even more complex. In times of desperation, thought and emotion are cast aside so that a person can act freely, without hesitation. In the heat of battle, this is easy. Unnecessary thoughts are cast aside, because confusion leads quickly to a lack of attention, and then to death. Many decisions are made in the heat of battle. 

Only afterwards are they considered. 

*************************************************

The night was dark, as night tends to be. The stars glittered, and a breeze whistled through the trees. 

A man was walking on the road, alone. This was not unusual. 

His goal was to find the Hitokiri Battousai. Some would claim that this goal was not unusual either. 

He walked quietly, and carried a sword, and looked straight ahead. Towards Tokyo. 

*************************************************

Takani Megumi wiped her forehead with her sleeve. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the candles burning on the desk; all but one had burned out. She sighed, and decided not to bother finding new ones. It was long past time she was in bed, anyway. She had taken to sleeping at the clinic lately; there had been an unusual number of midnight accidents, and it was good to have someone there in case something went wrong. She was young and had more strength than Dr. Genzai, so it was better that she be the one to stay. 

She smiled to herself, realizing that she'd spent almost all of her time at the clinic of late. Indeed, she only left to visit the Kamiya Dojo; she hadn't been to her own home for any significant amount of time in almost a week. 

But then, what was there at home? Empty rooms, the sound of her own footsteps echoing...here, there was work. And at the dojo, there were friends. 

And Sanosuke. 

Megumi's smile grew a little broader. She'd had a lot of time to think while everyone was in Kyoto, and had been surprised by some of her conclusions. First- that she didn't miss Kenshin nearly as much as she thought she would. Any feelings she'd had for him beyond friendship and gratitude had disappeared for good when he left without saying goodbye to her. She knew that he'd never been interested. 

Instead, she had found herself worrying constantly about Sanosuke. The man was impetuous, arrogant, stubborn, troublesome, obnoxious, and altogether idiotic- and she could not get him off of her mind. He was younger by several years, and immature to boot. But he was also protective, compassionate, determined...and, she had to admit, devilishly attractive. They'd gotten off to a rocky start, but he'd helped her on any number of occassions. Just as often as Kenshin. 

She'd been shocked when he'd returned from Kyoto with his right hand ruined- but deep down, a small part of her was pleased as well. Because now she had an excuse to make him come see her every week on the button, so she could examine his hand. And her own heart. 

Megumi's smile was one of anticipation and resolve. There was no hurry; sometime soon, she would take steps to figure out how he felt- though she already had suspicions. And then she would act. 

Humming softly, Megumi blew out the remaining candle and went to bed. 

*************************************************

Kamiya Kaoru watched the stars twinkle, and fretted. This was something she did a great deal. In general she was happy, but she still did a lot of fretting. With two freeloaders, several friends who stopped by constantly to eat food, a dojo without its full share of students, and the occassional psychotic killer dropping in to cause trouble...well, there was a lot to fret about. 

Nor was it a surprise that her thoughts were concerned with primarily with one of those freeloading guests. The one with red hair, a cross-scar on his cheek, and eyes that were always filled with secrets. 

She had followed him to Kyoto, and brought him back to Tokyo. She was sure of her feelings. But she couldn't guess what he felt, and that was where her musings always stopped. She couldn't, in all honesty, call Kenshin a freeloader; he did his share of work around the house and then some, leaving her enough time to train Yahiko and any other students who wished to learn. It was very easy to let him cook and clean and play with Dr. Genzai's granddaughters, and treat him as though he would be around forever. 

But would he? 

He cared; that much was certain. But did he care enough to never resume his journey as a rurouni? Was what she had to offer him, here, enough? 

She'd never told him how she felt. She assumed that he knew...she wasn't any good at hiding her feelings. Traveling from Tokyo to Kyoto just for him must say something. But she had never actually told him, and wondered if she needed to. If not for his sake, then for her own. 

Kaoru was tired of being confused, tired of staying up at night fretting. After Kenshin had left for Kyoto, she'd wallowed in misery for several days, making an utter fool of herself in the process; she was not pleased with the memory. Normally she was a strong, forceful girl. She'd learned strength after her father died, when she'd taken over the dojo and all its considerations and lived alone. Lived _successfully_ alone. She'd been doing just fine until Gohei had shown up and frightened her students off. Even then, she'd survived. She kept the dojo running. With Kenshin performing all the regular chores, she was able to earn enough money to support the both of them and Yahiko besides. 

If Kenshin left...she'd find the strength to go on. Somehow. She'd been afraid of being left alone, but she wasn't; she'd gained a younger brother in Yahiko, and many new friends. So it was time to stop worrying about what would happen if he left, and put her efforts towards ensuring that he didn't. 

And it was time to tell him how she felt. She needed that; there was too much unspoken, too much she needed to say. 

If she could just find the right moment... 

*************************************************

Myojin Yahiko was at the half-way point between sleeping and waking. Part of him was pleased and content; the rest of his mind was working furiously. 

It had been a while since they'd come back from Kyoto, and longer since the battle at the Aoiya, but he remembered it clearly. On his own, he'd beaten one of the Jupongatana. He'd taught himself a technique from the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, just by watching and practicing in his free time. He might only be ten years old, but he was _good_...and getting better. 

It didn't mean much next to Kenshin's strength, though. Kenshin was the best swordsman Yahiko had ever seen, or could even imagine. He lived his life protecting the people he cared about, without killing, with perfect control over his techniques. That was what Yahiko dreamed of having. Power, and the wisdom to know how to use it or not use it. 

And what Yahiko wanted, more than anything, was for Kenshin to agree to teach him. Kaoru was good- though he'd've been caught dead before admitting it- but Yahiko wanted more. All the knowledge he could get. He wouldn't rest until he had it. 

And then maybe, just maybe, Kenshin would see him as an ally rather than a liability. Instead of just a child. 

With these thoughts on his mind, Yahiko gradually drifted into sleep. 

*************************************************

Sagara Sanosuke looked down at his right hand in disgust. _Feh. Torn to ribbons. Doctor-lady says I won't be able to throw a punch for weeks, and that I shouldn't use it for anything until then. How _boring_. Of course,_ he thought, looking over at the redheaded swordsman sitting beside him, _Kenshin's strength isn't really his speed or his power. It's his ingenuity- he always comes up with new things to surprise his enemies. I could do worse than to try doing that for a while. Probably a waste of my time, but what else am I gonna do? Flirt with the cute doctor? She'd just laugh, call me a chicken, and send me on my way. Women._ He took a long drink. 

"Oy, oy, ease up there Sanosuke- the night's just beginning!" Genji, one of his friends from the gambling hall, grinned and winked at him. 

"Exactly," Sano smirked back, downing the rest of his cup. "And it'll take hours for this stuff to put me over. Oy, lovely-" he motioned for the waitress, who walked over with a slight smile on her face. "Bring us another bottle, eh? We'll need it." He flashed her a dashing grin, and she blushed and nodded, and turned. "Heh. Never let it be said that Sagara Sanosuke doesn't know his way around a girl!" Sano smirked, eyeing the waitress as she walked away. 

"Oh?" Kenshin smiled. "How about Megumi-dono?" 

Sano glared at his friend. "It's not _my_ fault the woman's not smart enough to appreciate my talents!" 

"Mm-hmm." Kenshin took another sip to avoid answering- or laughing. Sanosuke snorted, not fooled in the least. He was pleased, though. The swordsman had seemed depressed lately; it had taken a lot of effort to convince him to come out for a night with the guys, to cheer him up. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, and was teasing Sano as though the time in Kyoto had never happened. Exactly what Sano wanted. 

"Aah, women...can't live with them, can't live without them. I was in love once, but she married someone else. Haven't found anyone like her yet." The man next to Sanosuke finished this story with a glum sigh. 

"Get over it, Tomo. They're all the same. Right, Sanosuke?" Genji eyed the ex-gangster, and seemed surprised when Sanosuke didn't immediately respond. 

"Most of them, maybe," Sano said finally. His eyes narrowed. "Some of them are arrogant, demanding, pushy foxes-" He broke off as everyone started laughing. "Feh. Bastards." He took a swig of his drink, and tried to think of a way to change the subject. He nearly spewed his sake all over the table as Genji clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Hah!" the gambler laughed. "Never thought I'd see a woman get the better of you, Sanosuke. That doctor's got you wrapped around her finger. That's why you'll never see _me_ get involved with a woman...I like to do as I please." He smirked. "Women live to make fools of men. They _like_ sending us running around in circles 'til we don't know which way is up or down. They're the devil's own creatures." 

Tomo grinned at his friend. "You're just saying that because you've never fallen for one of them, Genji. Just you wait." The other gambler took a sip of his drink. "How 'bout you, Himura? Ever been in love?" 

Sanosuke looked over at his friend, curious to hear the answer, and was surprised at what he saw. Kenshin stared at the table for several minutes without answering. His face was completely expressionless. When he did speak, all he said was, "It's past time I went back. Kaoru-dono will be worried." 

Without another word, Kenshin walked out of the bar, carefully closing the door behind him. Tomo and Genji went on drinking, laughing and teasing each other. But Sanosuke was silent, wondering what- or who- the rurouni could have been thinking about, and why the question had bothered him. 

*************************************************

The players are almost all gathered. Not so far away, a lone man walks the road towards Tokyo, approaching a goal that has eluded him for years. Takani Megumi sleeps the sleep of the blessed, worn out from a long day's work. Kamiya Kaoru looks up at the stars, considering her options. Myojin Yahiko plans for times to come, when he too will be a great swordsman protecting those he cares about. Sagara Sanosuke ponders the enigma that is Himura Kenshin. 

And Kenshin? 

Kenshin dreams. 

* * *

I hid a bad pun in there. Megumi's name can be written to mean "blessed." [ Look it up if you don't believe me.][1] Still, Megumi has always struck me as relatively tranquil compared to the other characters of Rurouni Kenshin. After the initial confusion of the first episodes where she's introduced, she becomes very secure in who she is, what she wants, and what she's doing. So perhaps it's not such a bad pun. Besides, she has Sanosuke...an arrogant bastard maybe, but such a cute one! *gryn* 

[ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu][2]

   [1]: http://enterprise.ic.gc.ca/cgi-bin/j-e/dict
   [2]: mailto:ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu



	2. Chapter Two

**Past and Present**

  


Chapter One

  


by Ashfae

*************************************************

"The only thing needed to make happiness complete is to be worthy of having it." 

*************************************************

...1864... 

_...a black envelope, a dream lost, sake that tastes of blood..._

"Have you ever been in love, Himura-san?" 

_...his fingers reach up, the slash across his face burning as he listens to his latest target trying to whisper something...a name..._

"I would never kill you, even if you had a sword in your hand. Not for any reason, not ever!" 

...1864... 

_They had taken her, but he would get her back. This was not to be questioned. He would find her, and they would die the deaths they deserved. They have damaged his hearing and his sight, and he is weak from loss of blood and severe cold, but it is no matter. _**They will die.**_ His emotions are raging, hate and fury and love and fear clashing together in a frenzy. But his thoughts are focused and clear: he is the Hitokiri Battousai, the perfect killer, and nothing short of death will keep him from his goal. _

And if his death is the price of Tomoe's freedom...it is a small thing, after all. His life was bitter until she entered it; giving everything so that she might have a chance to find the happiness he promised her is easy. He might go to hell, but he will take her captor with him. All that matters is her dream. All that matters... 

Blood fills his senses as he desperately forces his eyes to work, his ears to hear, his hands to feel...dimly, he becomes aware of his enemy, waiting for him. With a bloodcurdling scream he rushes forward, katana raised... 

...the smell of blood is interrupted by the scent of white plums... 

No!

She's stepped into his striking range. His sword has already begun its arc; he cannot pull it back, not in his weakened state. Everything in him screams as the katana cuts into her- and if I had a sword in my hand now, would you...?_- goes through her, stabs his enemy through the heart...the dagger she was holding flies backwards and slashes his cheek, crossing the scar he was given a year ago...and they all fall to the ground. _

He's crawled over to her, is holding her, crying out her name and begging her to tell him why, why, why, but she only touches his cheek and smiles...as her hand falls, as her blood spills out onto the snow... 

Oh god, it should have been him! It should have been him! His are the blood-stained hands, the hands that break promises, the hands that sin! It should have been him! 

The Battousai throws his head back in a silent scream, unable to find any way of expressing the agony he feels, and knows that he is damned forever... 

**No!**

Kenshin sat bolt upright in bed. It took him several minutes to seperate the past from the present. Once he remembered, he covered his face with one of his hands. His other hand automatically reached for his sword, always nearby, and clutched it so hard that all the blood drained from his fingers, leaving them tense and pale. 

_"How 'bout you, Himura? Ever been in love?"_

Quietly, a word interrupted the silent darkness. 

"...Tomoe..." 

He got no more sleep that night. 

By the next morning the memory was rendered less intense by distance and sunlight, by everyday activities. He got up early and cooked breakfast, did laundry, watched as Kaoru drilled Yahiko in a series of exercises...as he did every morning. 

But for once, the rituals gave no peace. The day was strangely unreal; how is it possible for him to fit into this setting? How can the man whose hands took the lives of more men than can be counted be standing here washing dishes in this strange place where people call him by his name, instead of his title? 

His title. Even now, his. There was so little about him that was human, back then...as was necessary. There are two ways of winning a war- dehumanize your opponent, or dehumanize yourself. That is the unspoken law of all combat. It was easier to let people call him Hitokiri Battousai, back then. Or even Himura Battousai. If someone had called him Kenshin, he wouldn't have known who they meant. 

It took a long time to learn who Kenshin was, to learn to refuse those unspoken rules of combat and become more human, instead of less, when holding a sword...a very long time, and sometimes he wonders if he is still learning. 

Strange, strange that the memory would be called up so vividly now. Or perhaps not, given where his thoughts have been over the past weeks. 

Kenshin ran a hand through his hair, leaving a light trail of dishwashing bubbles in the red strands. _Kyoto._

It all centered around Kyoto- everything that had taken him back there, everything he had done there. No one fully understood what about the adventure had changed him, and he did not know how to explain. No...perhaps he didn't have the courage to explain. 

It began with Saitou, the fight in the dojo. It had started easily enough: the wolf attacked, and he defended. That's how it would have stayed, if he'd remained in control of himself. 

He hadn't. With each attack, the memory of how it felt to be the Hitokiri Battousai had come more strongly back to him, until he could almost feel his eyes glowing amber in the darkness. 

It was that blow towards the end that mattered, the one that had struck the back of Saitou's neck. If he'd been using a katana instead of a sakaba, it would have taken the head clean off. Even so, it was a miracle that Saitou's neck hadn't been broken. 

It was only the sakaba that let Saitou live. Kenshin himself had been so lost in the haze of bloodlust and fighting that he hadn't even thought about his vow of non-killing. He'd meant to completely take down his opponent- and Saitou had known it. That was why the policeman had decided that he could be useful in ending Shishio's threat. 

It was then that Kenshin had started to be afraid. 

But he'd gone to Kyoto. He'd felt obligated to, after the man who requested it of him was murdered by Soujiro the Prodigy. Not just to go to Kyoto, but to confront his past, himself. To learn what it meant to be Himura Kenshin. 

He found...what he expected. Again and again he fought, examining his reactions closely. He could remember the exact moment in his fight with Chou when he'd lost control. He remembered Iori's father throwing the sword at him, whipping the blade out of its sheath with a speed that defied physics, towards his opponent... 

He'd fully expected the sword to be a katana. His blow was meant to be lethal. The fact that it wasn't was chance. Not intention. 

After Shishio had burned, saving him the trouble of dispatchment, Sanosuke had said, "It's okay, Kenshin...you won." 

And all he'd been able to say was "No." 

No. 

He hadn't won. At heart, he was still a killer. Even if it was for good purposes...even if he hadn't actually taken anyone's life in years...the intentions were there. And no one else understood. 

He didn't know what to do. He'd meant to return Kaoru and the others to Tokyo and then leave to resume his journey, but the closer they came to Tokyo, the harder it was to convince himself that he'd be able to go a second time. 

And when Kaoru had stood there, smiling at him and holding out her hand, with words of welcome on her lips... 

How could he leave? 

He should leave her. His very existance was a threat to her, to everything she wanted the world to be. The rurouni she believed in didn't exist anymore; his hands were stained again, more than ever, and still she smiled at him...he should leave her. 

Every day he tried to convince himself, and every day he failed. 

_Ever been in love, Himura?_

The shock that had gone through him as the question was asked, the realization that the alcohol in his mouth all at once had the tang of metal in it...he'd stared down at his cup and been lost for an answer as images raced through his head... 

_...Kaoru...Tomoe..._

...staring at the liquid that seemed tinged with dark red... 

_Tomoe._ His fingers lifted up of their own volition, touching the cross-scar. 

"Ken-nii!" "Ken-niichan!" 

"Oro?" He turned and was immediately swamped by two little girls who grabbed at his legs, cheering. His face lit up in a smile. "Ayame-chan, Suzume-chan. You've come by to play again today?" 

The elder of the two nodded eagerly while the younger grabbed his leg even more tightly. "Haaaaaaai! Ken-niichan daisuke!" 

Kenshin felt his worries fade as he was drawn back into the present. He reached down and pulled Suzume up into an embrace; she wrapped her arms around his neck as Ayame danced happily around them. "Well then, what shall we do today?" 

"Laundry! Laundry!" 

He never ceased to be amused by the way the two girls thought laundry was a game instead of a chore...and when they were around, it did seem a game. They all tended to end up with a lot of bubbles in their hair, and soap stains on their clothes. "Hai, hai..." 

Later he felt someone's eyes on them, and glanced up to find Kaoru watching with a smiling face, her eyes beautiful in delight. And yet... there was an air of wistfulness there, too, one that had been there for some time and was growing increasingly difficult for him to ignore. 

Even so, there was something in him that filled with joy just at the sight of her, at the wonder of him sitting on the lawn with his hands in soapy water, the two trusting, endlessly cheerful young girls laughing beside him, and this young woman watching...even with all his worries, part of him couldn't help but be at peace. 

_This is what I'm protecting._

The thought was familiar, and no less determined for having been thought hundreds of times before. As long as all this is safe...as long as this life goes on peacefully, with or without him... 

All that matters. 

He met Kaoru's eyes and smiled back at her, but his attention was almost immediately pulled back to the laundry as Ayame-chan held up a yellow cloth in his face. Laughing, he helped her wash it. 

By the time he looked up again, Kaoru was gone. 

***************************

_But if I am to stay here always...what then?_

Hours later, he was walking back from the market. His thoughts continued to chase around in circles, regardless of his attempts to force them onto less troubling topics. 

_If I stay..._ He swallowed, his hand tightening slightly around the tofu bucket that he carried. Deep down, farther down than he normally let himself feel, Kenshin knew that all he wanted was to stay forever, to live quietly forever, by her side forev- 

He shook off the thought before it had a chance to fully form. _No._ It's wrong, everything about the idea is wrong. What is he thinking? He'll have to leave eventually. He is rurouni, he wanders... that has been his truth for years, the destiny he made for himself after the war. 

The war...sometimes he wakes astonished to find that the war could possibly have ended, wondering if the life he lives now is only a dream and he will wake soon with a black envelope beside his bed... 

He shook his head again, exhausted with endless questioning. _Does it ever end?_

A sixth sense tingles: something unusual. Kenshin looked up. 

He was standing beside the river; on the far side of the sky, the sun had almost disappeared. On the opposite shore of the river a man stood, watching in silence. He was tall and thin, and carries a sword. Even from that distance, Kenshin could feel the heat of his gaze. The two stood for a long time, staring at one another. 

Then the other walked away. 

Kenshin frowned, perplexed. _Something...familiar?_

The sun set entirely, leaving him in twilight. 

* * *

*grimace* Yes, I know the tenses are a little skewed. Believe me, the last draft was even worse- I don't know how my writing got so tangled, usually I don't have any problem with tenses. I'm still fixing that and will post a better draft once I have one. 

FYI- no, the man in this scene is not Enishi. In fact, Enishi will not be at all involved. This takes place after the Kyoto Saga, but before the events of the Revenge Arc. (or rather, it replaces the events of the Revenge Arc; I started writing it before I read Revenge) 

[ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu][1]

   [1]: mailto:ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu



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